Brandywine: Regency historical romance (The Brocade Series, Book 1) (18 page)

They’d finished, and by some unvoiced command, the last servant closed the chamber door. Leaving Gil and Helene alone…with a wondrously hot bath. His arms loosened, and he lowered her to her feet. Helene
unfolded and walked stiffly to test the bath
with her wrist. It was perfect.

“Sorry, darling. The water’s not for you.”

He lifted a leg toward her, and balanced his back against the bedpost.

“Not...for me?”

“Of course not. And if you don’t help me off with these boots, it’ll be cold before you get to use it
.”

“Help...with your boots?”

“You can bring back Brandy now. I’m quite certain
she’d enjoy the chore. I’m going to need an assist with undressing, and then I believe I’ll need one to bathe. And you’re going to provide it.”

“Why...are you doing this, My...uh. Gil?”

He snorted and let his leg fall. His boot heel thudded against the floor.

“This is your punishment, remember?”

“Punishment?”  The word was barely intelligible. She was surprised it made sound.

“You just caused me an
excessive amount of trouble, and for what, pray tell? A little
teasing? Well…I’ve decided to test your avowal.”

Helene shivered in her ruined organza dress, torn stockings,
and bark-filled petticoats while he watched her dispassionately.

“Perhaps I’d enjoy your ministrations more if you removed
your clothing first,” he said. “I daresay I can get my own boots off
while I watch.”

The dress was sodden and felt worse than seaweed
, but she wasn’t parting with it so easily. “You, Sir, are
a barbarian.” She walked to him and knelt at his feet, trying her
best to keep her dignity.

“And you, my dear wife, are a lying, street-wise whore. I
believe that makes us even.”

She was grateful to be looking at the floor. No matter how
teasing he sounded, his words cut. Wounded. Pained. She blinked away tears and
held out her hands, and he placed one of his Hessian boots in
them.

“I also order you to bring Brandy back. If anyone washes
my back, I want it to be her. Do I make myself clear?”

The boot in her hands shimmered as she
carefully sucked back the tears.

“Ah, Guv. Look what ye gone an’ don. Ye frightened away
that milk sop, Helene. Why would ye go and do that, when all
Brandy’s good fer is a quick tumble?”

“Because that’s precisely what I had in mind.”

She was counting before he finished.

CHAPTER TEN

“How the blazes do these come off, anyway, Guv?”

“Usually with a good shove. Would you like me to
demonstrate?”

Helene sat on her haunches and surveyed his booted foot.
After prying for some time, she’d barely managed to get it past his
heel.

“You shouldn’t wear ‘em so tight, but I suppose yer after the
ladies’ reaction to yer legs, aren’t ye?”

“Close enough. I don’t think the ladies spend too much time
looking at my lower leg for some reason.”

“Course they do! Why, yer every inch a fìne-lookin’ gent, an’
I’m certain the ladies notice, I am.”

“Hold on tightly this time, Brandy love, and I’ll show you
how it’s done.”

He leaned back against the bedpost, put his other foot on her
shoulder, and nearly rolled her over with his shove. It had worked though. The boot was in her hand. She almost crowed with accomplishment, before stopping it.

“That’s about wot I’d expect from a gent after all, an’ yer not
so different, are ye, Luv? Givin’ Brandy a bit o’ yer foot,
and slick as a blade, that boot’s off. Why, I never seen the like.”

“Doing it rather brown, aren’t we?”

Gil used his iron-hard whisper, making
her avert her gaze to the boot in her lap. She didn’t answer. She didn’t know what he wanted to hear.

“Come along, then, and let’s get the other off.
I can’t stay this way all day.”

He’d peeled off his stocking, flung it toward the fireplace, and stood on his bare foot now with the booted one lifted. The move defined every bit of him, and made her swallow more than once. But it was her own fault. She hadn’t had to watch.

“Now’s I know how it’s done, there won’t be any reason to
snap at me, Guv. No reason at all.”

She waited until his foot was against her shoulder, but this time she did fall over
when he pushed.

“Ye did that on purpose!”

She wagged a finger at him
as she rolled instantly back to her feet and then she stood. And that felt somehow a bit more even.

“Perhaps. Now come and undo this cravat for me. My
fingers don’t work too well when they’re cold, and the material’s wrenched tight with damp.”

“Brandy’s got the fingers fer ye, then, Guv. She knows just how to use ‘em, too. Don’t ye be a-wastin’ any time worrying’ yer
noggin—”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

His neck cloth was just above eye level. She had to stand right in front of him, and somehow bear it. Everything was too visceral. Too…intense. T
he feel of his breath on her hands as she worked at his
wrecked collar. The particular slant of his head to help her unwind it from him. The way he took it from her nerveless fingers and chucked it in the same
direction as the socks.

Her dress was starting to dry. Until then, she hadn’t known
how stiff the material was as it scratched every time
she moved. His hair was drying a bit, too, and the sight
forced her to gulp before backing
hastily away.

“Where do you think you’re off to? I need an assist with my buttons,” Gil said.

She swallowed. Started silently counting. Forced her feet to approach. And reached for his shirt placket. G
il stood very patiently as she worked the buttons
loose, although her hands shook the entire time. And then it was done. He turned around to shrug h
is shirt off. She caught it, and then busied herself with examining it.

It was better than the alternative. Him.

“Laws, but yer a fine-lookin’ one, aren’t ye? There’s not one hint of padding, either. No wonder the ladies swoon at the sight of ye.”

“I haven’t heard any complaints.”

“Oh, go on with ye! I can see ye won’t be needin’ Brandy’s
compliments. Sounds like yer head’s already full from hearing them.”

“Let’s just say I’d enjoy hearing them from you, shall we?
Turn around.”

She gasped, her eyes went wide, the shirt fell, b
ut she did as instructed, pirouetting to face the fire.

“We’ve got to get your gown off, Brandy love, for I noticed
how much you shiver. I’m not sure I wish to wait that long
when it’s time to remove my britches.’

Any lost color came flooding back. With a rush that heated. Enflamed. Tormented. She forced herself
to breathe carefully and calmly while he undid the buttons down
her spine.

“This material isn’t very conducive to lovemaking…is it?
How can you stand to wear such netting? My fingers may not survive.
Come along, love. Step out.  I can’t stay in this position all night. Think of my back, for pity’s sake.”

She shut her eyes. Reopened them. Nothing changed. There wasn’t anywhere to hide. Nowhere to run. And Brandy wasn’t any help. Somehow she’d lost the
capacity to live through any experience – no matter how horrid. It wasn’t possible.

Love had that much power?

She stepped out of the gown, leaving it in a puddle of material on the floor and then just stood there. Looking at the mess of ruined material.

“I’ve a hankering for yon tub, Brandy, and yet there you stand. Looking at anything other than me. You must find me the most loathsome man in existence.”

No, Gil.
Never that.

She lifted her head, turned around, and hoped her
chemise covered more of her than it felt like. Gil’s
undergarment clung to him. Two long
rents in the material flashed glimpses of flesh. S
he stiffened and
her blank expression slipped. And she knew he saw it. The proof was in his voice.

“
I’m having a bit of difficulty with
these buttons again. Damn. You’d think they’d sew on buttons
that men could undo.”

There was one yard of floor between them, yet she could swear she felt him. And no amount of
ignoring it changed anything.

“Gillian?”

His jaw hardened. That was the highest she dared look.

“You know the terms.
I’ve vengeance to gain and
a bellyful of your shyness act.
Work the buttons loose so I can get on with my bath.”

He had to hear what sounded like a sob, even as she silenced it.

“Oh, blast it,
anyway! I’ll get the damned thing off, then.”

She heard ripping, grunts, and then his undershirt landed at her feet
.

“Barbarism comes in handy at times. Yes?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Look at me.”

Look at him?

“Now.”

Somehow she did it. Scanned her vision up, across all that naked skin, to his neck. Chin. Mouth…  Until finally she met his eyes. And got snagged by his gaze. Just as
she’d known all along that would
happen.

“Will you be removing my trousers or your own petticoats first?”

“Your—. Your....”

“Trousers?
Or petticoats? Which is it? And don’t look at me like that. I’m giving you the option here.
”

His eyebrows neared his hairline as he watched
her blink rapidly at the moisture hovering at her eyes. And then it cleared away.

“Brandy has a hard time with the pants ye gentry wear, she does, so perhaps she’ll let ye do yer own, Guv, just this once.”

“You’ll unfasten your own petticoat then?”

“Very well! You win. You always win, don’t you?”

She turned away and fiddled with the ties at her waist. She couldn’t possibly face him and the blasted things
seemed to be all knots, and the whispered sound that might be him removing his own his clothing
was so loud, she couldn’t think, either.

“I don’t think it’s possible to win with you. I’m finding myself woefully short on patience. I’ve a hot bath waiting, for
pity’s sake, and I know you’ll enjoy it, too. Come on, love. Admit it. I’m fair enough to look at, moderately strong in
build, and yet you act like I’m a one-eyed, drunken sot that
someone hasn’t paid you enough to bed.”

She knew he was right behind her, but the rip of cotton
came too late to warn her. Even though she gripped the material to her, she felt the back fall open.

“Do you care about this chemise, darling? I’ve of a mind to
shock the hell out of your maid with my further demonstration of
lust if you don’t find the ties quicker!”

“Gillian…please?”

“No mercy.”

He leaned into her, and the touch of his lips on
her neck sent a shockwave through her legs, threatening collapse.
She cried aloud and jerked away.

“I...can’t, Gil!
Honestly, I...I can’t.” She couldn’t look at him as she crossed her
arms in front of her breasts.

And all he did was sigh. Loudly.
The waiting nearly undid her.
Then she heard
a vague splash.

“Gillian?” she whispered.

“You can turn around now, darling. I’m quite decent. Considering.”

“I...I can’t. You’ve gone an’ ripped me petticoats, an’ they’re
the only things I’ve got.”

“Oh…I don’t know about that. You’ve still got your chemise.”

“You...aren’t going to force me?”

“You can look at me, love. I promise
I’m quite modestly covered. And I truly hate to disappoint you, but I don’t force females. Or did you forget that part?
”

He wasn’t exactly telling the
truth. Where the water met his stomach, he was very immodestly displayed, and she had a difficult time ignoring it.

“Disappoint me? I can’t believe what I’m
hearing. May I remind Your Lordship that this episode is my punishment?”

“That doesn’t sound like Brandy.”  He winked.

“I hate you!”

“Now that’s a highly original statement.”

He looked away and spent time
lathering his cloth with soap while she waited, holding her
breath at the sight.

“Let’s review, shall we? I don’t happen to
think my attentions merit being called punishment, I’m
rapidly tiring of being laughed at, insulted, and, yes, hated. And – if I’m not mistaken –
you’re responsible for my absence from
Signora
del
Casta’s invitation to tea, which was my other option. Yes?”

He looked at her with raised eyebrows as if expecting an answer. Her mouth wouldn’t work. He was sudsing his chest! Oh, heavens!

“No answer? Very well. I’ll continue. Isn’t it also true that when I tried to
ascertain your true feelings toward me – your long-suffering husband – I found myself thrown from my own carriage, my dignity and rear quarters bruised, and I had to destroy a beautiful animal, as well
.”

“I already told ye how sorry Brandy was.”

“You’re right. You did.
Unfortunately, the entire episode did leave me wondering if just maybe you might have some feeling for
me…other than this professed hate. But I see – once again – that I’m
wrong.”

And then he stood up! Her reply was garbled as s
he turned away so
quickly, the room rocked.

“I disgust you that much? Hmm. Not a good sign. But I suppose I have my answer. And it’s a pity. I think I’d have enjoyed
your company immensely, but for the life
of me, I can’t quite figure out why.”

His tone wasn’t flippant anymore. It was sharp. Weary. She heard more splashing. A thud. A swish that could be cloth.

“There. I’m finished, and I’m thinking my own
chamber will be immeasurably warmer than this one, even without a fire. Your
servant, Madame.”

“Wait! Gillian!”

She followed him through the connecting door. He was wrong. His room was shiver-inducing
after the
damp heat of hers.

“I’m dressing for dinner, darling. I doubt my dear mother
forewent any invitations just because you decided to try driving
my curricle. Blast it, anyway. I asked her to make certain our
social calendar was full, and I know she took to that like a horse
leaving the opening gate at Ascot. I should’ve known. Didn’t you hear me? I’ll be
dressing.”

She just stood there. And then forced her mouth to work.

“I’m ever so sorry, Me Lord.
Brandy doesn’t want ye thinkin’…the wrong thing
.”